The Almighty Beverage
by Padfoot the epic GLOWSTICK
Summary: AKA why nobody should ever mess with England's tea. Lets just say that Canada has had better days.


I should probably be working on If You Fake It, but I wanted to write this. Happy St Patricks Day and happy late pi day.

* * *

Canada was determined to, for once, have a nice, normal day. He was going to stay home, eat pancakes, read a book, and maybe even watch a game of hockey. But above all, he was not going to do ANYTHING involving his "family".

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

Canada placed two stacks of pancakes down on the table. One for him, and one for Kumajirou.

"Who are you?" The bear asked. Canada ignored the question and picked up his fork. Then, because the universe was determined to ruin his day, the phone rang.

Canada sighed, put his fork down, and picked the phone up. "Hello?"

"Um...hello Canada." A quiet voice said, barely audible over the loud amount of background noise.

"Oh, hi Wales." Canada replied, thanking every god he could think of that it wasn't any of the rest of the UK. "Is something wrong? None of you really ever call."

Wales laughed nervously and Canada could hear Northern Ireland talking in the background. "We kind of need some help. England is really mad and Northern Ireand and I cannot get him to calm down. We though perhaps you could help?"

"Can't Scotland help? Or Australia? Or anyone else?"

"Scotland went to go see France and Australia is busy. Please?"

Canada looked longingly at his pancakes. So much for a normal day. "I'll be there in a bit."

* * *

Canada knocked on the United Kingdom's front door, not taking any notice of the extremely loud yelling going on inside. He had, after all, grown up with America; it wasn't as if yelling was anything unfamiliar to him.

The door opened to reveal an extremely tired looking Wales. "Thank you so much for coming. I have no idea what to do with them."

"Them?" Canada stepped into the house. "I thought you said that England was the problem." He looked around. "Holy hockey, what happened here?"

The interior of the house looked as if it had been viciously attacked by something. There were books, papers, and god only knows what thrown all over the room. In the corner, Sealand sat crying, while Northern Ireland attempted to get him to calm down.

Wales watched the Canadian wearily, as if expecting him to lose it. "Well, so what happened was..."

* * *

England stared at the micro-nation standing in front of him, his green eyes widened in shock. "You want to do what?"

"I want to learn to make tea." Sealand repeated, smirking slightly at the surprised look on the older countries face. "Having to always make coffee is making my entire country smell like the inside of a giant coffee machine."

"Th-this is a huge surprise," England said, trying to contain how happy he was that someone was finally taking an interest in the great art of tea making. "Are you sure you think you're up to it? Tea making is a very dangerous activity after all..."

'What does he possibly think could happen to me while making tea?' Sealand thought. Out loud, he said, "I can do it! It can't be that hard."

"Good luck with that, lad." Scotland said, walking into the room to grab his coat. "I'm going to visit Nessie," he told England. "You're in charge."

"Whose Nessie?" Seland asked after Scotland had left.

"Nessie is Scotland's imaginary friend," England explained. "All of my brothers have one. Wales has his dragon, and North has leprechauns. And to think they say that Flying Mint Bunny isn't real..." England paused. "But this is not to be about that. Will you please go get the water ready? I will show you what to do from there."

England spent the next hour attempting to teach Sealand the fine art of tea making. He was aware that the micro-nation would never hold the same respect for the drink as him, but it was nice to be able to share it with someone else.

Finally, England decided that Sealand's tea reached his ridiculously high standards. It's colour, temperature, and consistency all seemed alright. The only thing left was the taste.

England held up the cup to take a sip, no doubt in his mind that his tea making skills had at least rubbed off on Sealand a bit in the hour they had spent together. He took a large gulp of the liquid, and then promptly spit it back in the cup. "What did you do?" He exclaimed, nearly dropping the cup. "Why is it so sweet?"

"Isn't that how it's supposed to be done?" Sealand said, seeming legitimately puzzled by England's reaction. "I only put fifteen sugar cubes in it..."

"Fifteen...sugar cubes." England looked at Sealand in horror. He had absolutely no idea how to process that information. No one, not even America, had ever messed up his tea that badly. Sure, it had been dumped in a harbour, and prehapse Scotland had done things with the drink that England didn't even want to think about, but no one had ever attempted to put that much sugar.

* * *

"...and then he just seemed to have a complete mental breakdown," Wales finished his story. "He's just been yelling and freaking out ever since."

"And you couldn't have just called the Republic of Ireland?"

"We did. She said that this is why she's embarrassed to be associated with us." Northern Ireland stood up from the corner where he had finally gotten Sealand calmed down.

Canada sighed. "I know how she feels. Did it occur to any of you to just give England some properly made tea?"

Both of the countries stared at him blankly.

"Must I do everything on my own?"

Canada carried a perfectly prepared cup of tea to England's study, where he had holed himself up for well over an hour. "England, " he said, knocking softly, "I have something for you."

The door opened slightly. Canada was met with angry green eyes, topped with bushy eyebrows. "I brought you tea." Canada held out the cup.

England took it, before closing the door and retreating into his study once again.

Canada returned to Wales and Northern Ireland. "He will be out in a few minuets. If you have anymore problems, please call someone else."

* * *

Canada's pancakes still sat where he had left them, although they were much colder. He heated them up, and poured on plenty of maple syrup. He sat down across from Kumajirou, and was about to start eating when his phone rang.

The Canadian glanced at the caller-ID. America...

Canada picked up the phone and walked over to the sink. The garbage disposal seemed like a good new home for the phone.

* * *

So I hope you enjoyed that piece of crap. I wish it could have been better, but it's late and I want to go to sleep. Hope you liked it, and sorry if it sucked.

Reviews make me want to write more. :) *hint hint*

Good night!

-GS


End file.
